Greek: Soulmates
Summary: After the End of the World Party Casey and Cappie go their separate ways. Eight years later Casey's little brother Rusty is getting married and her carefully constructed life turns upside down when Cappie steps up to the alter as Rusty's best man. Is it like Cappie said? Can you always go back to your soulmate or does time really heal all wounds?
A/N: Hey guys. As promised this is my new Casey3Cappie story. Its taken me a while but Ive actually managed to write the whole thing! I may edit the direction of the story depending on the reviews but otherwise its pretty much complete. I'll be updating pretty regularly...reviews will help me update faster of course. Be sure to check out the chapter titles. They correspond to song lyrics. The songs that Ive borrowed the lyrics from represent the mood I'm going for in that particular chapter. I'm looking forward to hearing what you thing. I'm also looking forward to the new season of Greek which starts (according to my count down clock which I have on my desk top) in exactly 25 days, 4 hours, 4 mins, and 16 seconds!!!!
Chapter 1- How's It Gonna Be When You Don't Know Me Anymore?
Casey Cartwright felt a shiver creep up her spine, making the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand up. She looked around at the people at her table. Everyone was talking, laughing. No one seemed to notice the warm night air change as if an electromagnetic switch had been flipped on. A sudden mist floated around them, coating the air with a thick suffocating layer of fog. Casey turned in her chair to face the dance floor, her gaze drawn automatically to a pair of startlingly blue eyes. She gasped as she looked at the face of a man she hadn't seen in 8 years. He stood on the other side of the dance floor on an old rotting dock that jutted out into the lake, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black suit. The mist, picked up off the surface of the lake by the light breeze, swirled around him, making his features blurry.
Casey rose silently from her chair, her eyes still locked with the man from her past. He had barely changed at all, she realized, as she moved slowly toward him. The white lamps lighting the lakeside swayed in the breeze and seemed to dim, the stars moving closer in the night sky. The music faded away until the only thing Casey could hear was the whispering of the wind, urging her to move forward. She was vaguely aware of Rusty and Jordan dancing and saw from her peripheral vision that they, like all the other dancers, had stopped to watch her.
Casey sighed with relief as she finally reached the dock and stepped onto it, her lavender dress brushing the floor, the wood moist and springy beneath her bare feet. She reached out to him with a hand, the haze around her becoming thicker. She tried to call to him as the darkness swallowed her but no sound came out. Casey could only see his outline now as the night pressed on her skin. He took a step toward her and for a fleeting second she thought he would come to her but he only turned, his hands still in his pockets, and walked away into the mist.
Casey slowly opened her eyes and looked into the darkness that surrounded her. Before her eyes could adjust she felt warm air tickle her ear and was distantly aware of the light dusting of hair that covered the chest of the man pressed to her back as well as the swell of his erection against her thigh.
"You were moaning in your sleep," a husky voice said next to her ear. "Tell me what you were dreaming about."
Cappie, she thought as a hand snaked out of the darkness to cup her naked breast. She felt a surge of heat between her legs and then felt it fade just as quickly as it had come.
"I'm gonna go for a walk," Casey said flatly, pulling herself up from the bed.
"Are you okay?"
Casey stepped into a pair of red lace panties and a crumpled pair of Levi's before turning to face Kale Turner, whom she could now see was laying on his side, naked, his head propped up by his hand.
"Why?" Casey asked, pulling a red t-shirt over her head, "Something has to be wrong if I don't want to sleep with you?"
"Exactly," he said, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
"Well there's nothing wrong."
Casey felt Kale studying her face as she slipped on her beat up jogging sneakers. He knew she was lying, of course, and she was thankful that it was too dark for him to see her clearly. They'd reached that level of friendship where he could see the spasms of pain that occasionally flickered in her green eyes. Kale, along with his boss and her best friend, Ashleigh Howard, was one of the few people that knew her so well. But if he had guessed at the reason for her sudden desire for a late night stroll he said nothing. That's what she loved most about Kale: he didn't push.
"Don't wait up," she said before closing her bedroom door behind her.
Casey grabbed her house keys out of the floral fruit bowl her mother had given her for Christmas three years ago, which sat on her kitchen counter and had never actually held any fruit. She felt a weight lift off her chest as she stepped out of her cool, central air controlled house into the balmy New York evening. She looked to the left and to the right as she trotted down the steps of her Brooklyn townhouse. Like her life, her street was deserted, a row of street lamps showing her only the sleepy trees and the obscure shadows made by silent cars jammed into their tight spaces. She felt something pull in her chest as she listened to her footsteps, the only sound to be heard at this time of night.
She loved her neighborhood. Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn is clean, safe, and a great place to raise a family, she thought, repeating the words her real estate agent had told her the first time she had set foot into her 2,880 sq. foot brownstone in Carroll Gardens' historical district. All the houses in New York City's smallest historical district were built roughly around the mid to late 1800s and featured large front gardens, an unusual attribute for Brooklyn. Casey had been tired of her once posh SoHo apartment in Manhattan and had opted for a quiet neighborhood with a young, stylish yet unpretentious edge.
Three and a half years ago Casey had been ready to start a family. She'd packed all her boxes, taken the trip across the Brooklyn Bridge, and given a key to her fiancé, who moved in two months later. But like all of her other relationships, her romance with Robert Morelli had come to a screeching halt before they'd had a chance to walk down the aisle. The smart, charming, and unwittingly self-deprecating defense lawyer from Boston had swept Casey off her feet only to leave her most nights to drown himself in the bottom of a whisky bottle.
Casey smiled as she turned the corner and found herself staring down Smith Street. It was well lit and cheerful. Little clusters of people, mostly young people, walked along the sidewalk, going in and out of the many bars and lounges that lined the street. It was one of two central streets housing the otherwise residential neighborhood's unique boutiques, trendy restaurants, and themed bars. Her engagement to Rob had been fast, even by her standards, but he had somehow managed to relieve the awful loneliness that had crept into her heart and wrapped itself around her bones.
After she and Rob had moved into the townhouse, however, it became obvious to her that she had just been kidding herself. She couldn't spend her life picking him up off the floor of The Zombie Hut, the tiki hut themed bar she now stood in front of, and she could no longer pretend that she was happy. Casey walked in, nodded to a couple of the faces that turned her way and sat down at the bar, ordering herself a lemon drop.
After kicking Rob out of her life, and changing her locks, Casey felt sure that he had been a very cheap imitation of someone she had lost a long time ago and that's why it hadn't worked out. Casey took a big gulp of her drink and tried to push the thought away, focusing instead on the man that lay alone in her bed right now.
Kale had stepped into her life just as Rob was finally stepping out. Ashleigh, always doing whatever she could to ease Casey's incessant sense of loneliness, had set them up on a blind date. Casey snorted at the thought, drawing her glass to her lips again. Kale, a former model and now Ashleigh's business manager, had girls climbing all over him and had only gone out with her at Ashleigh's repeated requests. He was tall and boyishly handsome, his dirty blond hair always impeccably cut and his shirts neatly pressed. He looked like a guy's guy and usually had a pretty model hanging on his arm. Casey attributed it to him having to prove his masculinity and heterosexuality in an industry controlled by women and gays. But he was doing wonders for Ashleigh's Upper East Side boutique, Amp3, and he satisfied Casey in bed, asking very little of her, so she didn't care what his issues were. Casey sighed before draining the last of her drink. Who was she to be pointing out Kale's issues let alone analyzing them? She was the one sitting at a bar at one o'clock in the morning, unable to sleep for fear that she'll dream of a man that she hadn't seen in eight plus years. A man she would surely see again in only two days time at her brother's wedding.
x
x
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"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."
Casey cracked one eye open and through blurred vision saw a glass filled with clear liquid.
"What is it?" Her voice sounded hoarse and thick to her own ears.
"It's vodka," Kale said from somewhere above her.
Casey opened her eye fully. She was laying on her stomach on the hardwood floor in her living room near the front door. A pillow had been stuffed under her head, a blanket thrown over her body, and her sneakers taken off. Resting a few inches in front of her face was a wine glass from her kitchen filled halfway with the Grey Goose Vodka she kept in the bottom drawer of her liquor cabinet. She tried to lift her head but put it down immediately.
"Drink it. It will help with your hangover."
"How do you know I was drinking vodka last night?"
"Case, I've know you for over two years and the only thing I've ever seen you order is a lemon drop."
"Oh," Casey said, unsure of what to say.
A small bottle of extra strength Tylenol and a Poland Spring landed next to the vodka. Kale walked away, his footsteps fading as he went into the bathroom. A few moments later the shower went on.
Sighing Casey slowly raised herself into a seating position. Her hair was probably a mess and she felt like she had mold growing on her teeth. She was instantly grateful that he had left her to her own devices. Picking up the wine glass, she gingerly swallowed some of the vodka. Next, she popped four of the Tylenols, chasing them with half the bottle of water.
After a few minutes of staring into space Casey was finally able to pick herself up off the floor. She stumbled into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and then headed upstairs to shower. Today was going to be a long day. She was to have lunch with her family and she could already see the look her mother was going to give her at showing up to a family function baggy-eyed and hung over.
Somehow or other today was just not going to be her day.
